Rockin' the Suburbs
by Cinderlei
Summary: AU. James Sunderland is living after his divorce with his adopted daughter Laura. However, things go awry when his old college roommate, Pyramid Head, shows up and forcibly moves in. This story is not to be taken seriously. At all.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respectful owners, and no infringement was intended. I own the dogs, the specifically mentioned Cheap Floozies, the Agents, and the Sexingtons.  


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Chapter 1

It was a normal day at the home of James Sunderland. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, his two small dogs were wrestling their way through the living room, and Laura, his adopted daughter, sat on the couch in her pajamas, watching TV. The head of the household himself was sitting at the counter, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. He glanced up and caught a sight of the clock.

"Laura, you have to get ready for school," he said, folding his paper quickly.

"But I don't wanna go to school, James!" Laura whined.

James rolled his eyes. They'd had this conversation many times. "Why not?" he said, trying to prove his point once more.

"I don't like the other kids. Can I just stay home today?"

He sighed. After he adopted her last year, she'd been home-schooled with a tutor to avoid jumping into a public school right in the middle of the school year. She was truly dreading having to talk with the other kids and learn with them, and not recieve as much attention as she used to. But he had to make her go now, otherwise it would be the same old song and dance for the next nine years until she graduates. Besides, it'll be nice to have an extra hundred dollars each month instead of paying for the tutor. "I already told you, it'll be good for you. You'll meet new friends, learn new things. How bad could it possibly be?"

"But I don't have any friends there, James!"

"I'm sorry to hear that, but--!" The telephone rang. James looked at it in suprise.

"Get that, it's not for me," grumbled Laura, who then turned to watch her cartoons again.

He got up and picked up the reciever, glancing at the caller ID long enough to realize he didn't know the number. "Hello?"

"Hey, hey, hey, James! It's me, Pyramid Head!"

He abruptly hung up.

It rang a few seconds later.

He picked the reciever up again reluctantly. "Hello?"

"Dude, why'd you hang up on me?"

"I didn't hang up on you, the call was dropped," James lied.

"But I'm calling you on a landline."

"So? The call was still dropped."

"Whatever. Hey, listen. I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?"

"No," he replied abruptly.

"But why not?" whined Pyramid Head.

"Because I don't like you."

"What?" Pyramid Head snorted."Wait, is this because of the thing between me and Mannequin Number One?"

James rolled his eyes. "And the thing between you and Janet, and the thing between you and Roxanne, and the thing between you and Mary--"

"I swear to god I didn't know you were married!" interrupted Pyramid Head.

James wasn't listening. "--And the thing between you and Ellen, and the thing between you and Penny--"

"Wait, you and Penny had a thing?" Pyramid Head interrupted again, but this time James stopped. "Wasn't that a long time ago? Like, when we were really young?"

"And how old _are _you?"

"I like to tell my women I'm twenty-two and it's all muscle."

James blinked. "Why are we talking about my love life? You can't stay here, and that's all I have to say on the matter! Go--room up with your parents or something!"

"Well, you see, I don't have--"

James hung up without letting him finish the sentence. Laura was looking at him over the arm of the couch. "Who was that?" she asked.

"Nobody important," James said through a fake grin. "Go get dressed!"

"I thought I was staying home sick today," his daughter said with puppy-dog eyes.

"You're not sick, Laura," he replied again, moving over to her and feeling her forehead with the back of his hand just to make sure.

She gave a few puny coughs which were obviously fake. "Yes I am. I think I have black lung disease and...and prostate cancer."

James looked at her with wide, concerned eyes. "Where did you hear _that?"_

"The TV said it," she said and gestured to the TV, which was playing a commercial for a men's health medication.

"Are they even allowed to show that sort of thing on this channel?" James muttered to himself. He quickly returned to the matter at hand and snatched up the remote to turn off the TV. "Clothes!" he barked. "Now!" Laura marched up to her room, slamming her door hard enough to make him jump a little.

He felt a little guilty about making Laura go to school, but before he could delve too much into the thought, the doorbell rang. He blinked a few times before answering it.

"Hey, hey, hey, James!"

It was James's turn to slam the door.

"Come on, James!" Pyramid Head shouted, peering as well as he could through the tiny window at the side of the door. "It's humid out here!"

"I already told you: You can't stay here! Go away!"

"This is where the bus dropped me off! I swear I had nothing to do with it!"

"Last time I checked, your _helmet_ didn't agree with public transportation codes!" James shouted.

"Okay, so maybe I tipped the driver a few extra dollars, but he did kick me off in the end!" He pounded on the window a few times. "Come on, James! Let me in!" He turned and looked at something off the edge of the stoop. "Oh, god, James!" he screamed. "The little people! They're attacking me!" He fell back against the screen door and slid down, screaming. "It's just like _Gulliver's Travels!_ They're gonna eat my eyeteeth, James! Save me! Oh, cursed hellfire! Oh, green trees! Oh, Toyota! AHH!"

James blinked again. What if he really was being attacked by little people from _Gulliver's Travels?_ What if he died on his stoop and did nothing to try and save him? He would feel guilty, wouldn't he? Some sort of legal action would be taken against him, wouldn't it? These feelings of fear of the judicial system and that damn hero gene in his bones took over without his consent, and he opened both doors quickly.

Pyramid Head stood up, dusted himself off, and waltzed in the door. "Gee, thanks, buddy," he said as if nothing had happened.

Not wanting to argue anymore, the failed hero moved out of the way and shut the door behind them. "And I thought _I_ was the crazy one," he muttered.

A door opened upstairs and Laura trudged down the stairs, lugging her backpack. When she saw Pyramid Head, however, her face lit up and she nearly knocked him over with the force of her hug. "Pyramid Head!" she squealed.

"Hey, Laura. What's up?" he said, taking on the role of a family member.

"I have to go to school today," she pouted, looking up at him.

"Aww, I can think of worse things. It's not so bad."

"Yes it is! I don't get to hang out with you!" she said.

"Well, you can hang out with me after school."

Laura's face lit up. "You won't leave before I get home?"

"I don't think so since I'm living here now," he said.

Her face, against the laws of physics, lit up even more. "Really?!"

"No he's not," said James in monotone. "He's leaving right now."

"Oh, come on, James," Pyramid Head said, turning to him. "You can't leave me out on the street. We're like brothers!"

"Yeah," scoffed James, "if you count being a backstabber as a brother."

"Can he stay, James?" Laura pleaded, getting on her knees and folding her hands. "Pleeeeeeeeeeease?" Pyramid Head copied her pose, and would have copied her puppy-dog eyes as well if his face wasn't covered.

James sighed and thought about it for a moment. He'd given her enough heartache already this morning. Besides, maybe Pyramid Head was different now. College was a long time ago, so maybe he'd grown up a little since then. "Fine," he said finally. "But," he interjected to keep them both from tackling him in joy, "he gets a job. Understand?"

"Thank you!" shouted Pyramid Head. He leapt to his feet and squeezed James as hard as he could, Laura following suit.

A horn beeped twice from outside. "That's the bus!" wheezed James. Pyramid Head let him go when Laura did, the little girl picking up her backpack and dashing outside, all fear of school forgotten. "Go!" he shouted after her. "Have a wonderful day! Make good decisions!" She stepped onto the bus without looking back and the giant yellow vehicle trundled off along the road.

James shut the door again and was met with a heavy arm landing across his shoulders. "James, my boy," said Pyramid Head, "this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

James rolled his eyes and slouched.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, I didn't think this many people would have reviewed already! That's a good thing. I'm glad you like it! Yes, it just keeps getting stranger. So, here's chapter 2! Enjoy:)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respectful owners, and no infringement was intended. I own the dogs, the specifically mentioned Cheap Floozies, the Agents, and the Sexingtons.

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Chapter 2

James shrugged Pyramid Head's arm off of his shoulders and cleared his throat. "All right. Since you really want to live here for whatever reason, it's time you become familiar with some household rules that I have."

Pyramid Head scoffed. "'Household rules?'" he repeated, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Pssh! Who uses 'household rules' anymore?"

"I do," replied James. "Now. If you'll follow me."

Pyramid Head followed him around the corner through the living room into the kitchen. "This is the kitchen," James announced. "This is where I cook and where the food is."

His roommate was already in the fridge. "Dude, you got any beer?"

James flushed. He immediately shut the refridgerator door, Pyramid Head barely dodging the fast-moving object. "No," James said. "You can't just waltz in here and snack on whatever you like, whenever you like!"

"But I didn't waltz, it was more of a gallop," muttered Pyramid Head inaudibly.

"We eat at mealtimes," continued James, "and you get one snack when Laura gets home from school, understand?"

"With this theoretical job I'm going to get," haggled Pyramid Head, "if I bought my own food, then I'd be able to eat it whenever?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome."

"But no alcohol."

Pyramid Head was dismayed. "But...why not?"

"Because I don't drink and I don't want Laura to get the impression that alcohol is okay because _you_ do nothing but drink all day, understand?"

It took a moment, but Pyramid Head finally registered the terrific run-on sentence James just spewed, and he nodded. "But if I drink when she's not here, it's okay?"

James hadn't considered that. "Well...yeah, I guess so." He cleared his throat, moving on to a different subject. "Now, the upstairs."

They walked around the corner through the living room once more and up the short flight of stairs to the landing. "This room is Laura's," he said, pointing to a room with green walls. "The blue one's a guest room. There's a linen closet here, a bathroom, and my room."

Pyramid Head again took the initiative and began exploring the guest room. "Nice," he said, fluffing a pillow.

"Not so fast," James interrupted. "That's not your room. Laura won't let me put you in there because there's a draft."

"Okay, so where _is_ my room?"

I now exercise my power as author and fast-forward to a few minutes later.

_"SWEEEET!!"_

James had brought him down to the basement, two levels below the ground floor, into a room that would be better described as a "skeleton." Plywood was put down to create a raised floor above the concrete, and there were frames around for where walls would eventually be. It was going to be a home gym, but that project seemed like it was going to be put on hiatus for a while.

Pyramid Head seemed very pleased with it, however. "This is just like my room at home! I can sleep in here..." He walked over to the door of a completed room adjacent to his room and opposite the laundry room. "...And I can keep my prisoners in here, and--"

"No! You can't!" James said quickly. "No prisoners!" He paused to open the door. "Besides, that's my office. Where I _work."_

Pyramid Head blinked. Or, he would have, if his eyes were visible. "What _is_ it that you do, anyway?"

"I am a clerk," replied James with an embarrased and hurt sort of pride. "I work for a firm called Sexington and Co."

"So you sit at a desk all day and answer phone calls?"

"No!" he said defensively. "I work as a middleman between filing and correspondance."

"So you sit in your cubicle all day mailing files to people?" Pyramid Head made no attempt to mask that he was thoroughly enjoying this.

James paused for a moment, trying to force his embarrassed mind to think. "Well, yeah, I guess..."

What could have passed for an explosion escaped Pyramid Head's helmet, but after a few moments James recognized it as no more dangerous than an explosive laugh can be. "Oh--my--GOD!" Pyramid Head gasped.

"It's not funny!" said James. "It's a very important job." Pyramid Head continued to laugh. "And besides," he added, "I might be getting a promotion soon!"

"To what, _Senior_ Envelope-Licker?!"

James glared. "What exactly is it that's keeping me from tossing you back to the little people from whence you came?"

Pyramid Head took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "I'm sorry, man," he said, "it's just, I thought those kinds of jobs were only made-up ones for movies and stuff. I never thought I'd actually know a poor guy who did a job like that."

James sighed. "Whatever." He cleared his throat again. "Where was I? Oh, right. So, this is your room. You can't bring any of your..._ahem..._women down here. Keep in mind that there is an eight year old child living in this house as well."

"All right, all right. I'll keep my women out of the house as long as you keep your women out, too."

James scoffed. "Deal," he said, and they shook hands on it.

"Anything else I should know about?" Pyramid Head asked.

He thought for a moment. "I can't think of anything else at the moment, except for the basics. 'Always have clothes on,' 'go to the bathroom in the right place,' 'wash your hands before eating,' other stuff like that."

"No problem man."


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry about the long wait! Been busy with things. Hopefully I'll keep on top of this story now and get it done:)

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Chapter 3

Later that evening, Laura had returned home from school, brimming with stories to tell about her new friends and homework. James was rather shocked that someone would give a third-grader homework on the first day, but he wasn't suprised to see that it was spelling homework. She sat at the counter, working at it slowly, whilst Pyramid Head sat next to her, reading a paper, and the head of the household began preparing dinner.

"Pyramid Head," piped Laura, "is this spelled right?" She handed him the paper.

He looked at it for a moment. "I don't think 'cheetah' has as many z's in it as you think," he replied and handed back the paper. She stared at it with her lips pursed in concentation.

Pyramid Head snapped his fingers, his covered face brightening at his idea. "That's what we should do!" he announced. "We should play Scrabble."

James sighed, dumping dry pasta into the pot of boiling water on the stove. "Maybe after dinner, if it's not too late."

"Okay."

Dinner went off without a hitch. Pyramid Head sat politely, transferring neatly-twirled spaghetti from the plate to what James assumed to be a mouth underneath the giant polyhedral helmet. The meatballs on Pyramid Head's plate were cut into precise quarters and occassionally accompanied the pasta on the fork. James was, frankly, astounded at the civility his roommate showed when he dabbed at the pinnacle of the mask in front of his face with a napkin, and, _hell,_ he even stuck out his pinky when drinking his milk. It wasn't even in a _teacup._

_Maybe this won't be so bad after all,_ James thought as he watched Pyramid Head load the leftovers into a Tupperware container.

It appeared that they did end up having enough time that evening to play a game of Scrabble. It was Pyramid Head's turn to go, and he added a word onto the sprawling growth of tiles on the board.

James glared up at him in astonishment. "You can't use _that _word!"

"Why not?" replied Pyramid Head, suprised at the outburst. "It's a perfectly innocent word."

"Oh really?" James said with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"It's a farming tool! What else could a 'hoe' be?"

"It's short for--!"

James cut himself short. Did _that_ version of the word have the "e" at the end? He wasn't quite sure, because in the word he was thinking of, the "o" was followed by an "r," and it didn't make sense for the "e" to be carried over into the abbreviation of the word. He realized at that time that he had been outsmarted. And he also realized that the hoe in the toolshed in the backyard was never referred to as "hoe" in his mind, but instead as an object loosely associated with the phrase, "I really hate yard work." Regardless, he shook his head to clear these thoughts from his mind. "Laura," he said, "it's your turn."

Laura screwed up her face in concentration, and laid some tiles on the board. "There. 'Bunnies.' B-U-N-N-A-E-Y-Z."

"Good job, Laura!" congratulated Pyramid Head, giving her a high-five and not bothering to correct her. James just smiled.

"It's your turn, James," Laura said.

"Okay." He looked down at his tiles, and silently cursed whoever decided that consonants should ever be placed in the English language. His hand consisted of a Q, a U, an X, an R, and a Z. He wasn't sure if he even had the proper amount of tiles, but didn't want to take more tiles to aid him in his quest. He _would_ make a word with these sucky letters, and he would do it _well,_ dammit. Of course, that's what he told himself at the beginning of the five minutes he pondered over the letters.

"You know, you could take a tile from the bag," said Pyramid Head.

"No," James responded quickly. "I can do this."

After a few more minutes of thinking, he attached the U, the Q, and the Z onto Laura's "BUNNAEZ."

"Umm...'Quaz' isn't a word," said Pyramid Head plainly.

James stopped for a moment. "Yes it is," he replied defensively.

"No, I'm pretty sure it isn't."

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure it is."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know."

"Then how is it a word?"

"Oh come on, you see a lot of words that you don't know the meaning of, but they're words anyway, aren't they?"

Pyramid Head got up from the table. "Let's just check the dictionary then, shall we?" He moved to the bookshelf and pulled a giant blue book from it, then flipped to somewhere towards the end with precise speed. "Nope, no 'Quaz.'"

"No, I swear it's a word!"

"Come on, James," Laura said. "Even _I_ know it's not a word. Just give it up, okay?"

"I saw it today! It's a word, I know it is!" James was starting to scare himself now. Was it really a word, or just something his imagination came up with?

"Dude, settle down," said Pyramid Head, returning to the table. "It's just a game. We'll leave it be, all right?"

The game didn't last much longer after that. James put Laura to bed, and then got ready for bed himself. He came out into the hallway as he was brushing his teeth to check that everything was turned off and locked up. He just about had a heart attack when he saw a strange figure sitting in the dark on his couch, lit only by the light from the television. Pyramid Head was (supposedly) staring at the box, transfixed, not appearing to acknowledge James's entrance into the room.

"Bob Barker," he muttered, "why are you so hypnotic? Why is the price always right? Where do babies come from?"

James tiptoed as quickly as humanly possible back upstairs and locked both his and Laura's door.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey there everybody! Just a quick note...I got a new computer! So that means I actually have a word processor with spell and grammar check! Yay! Eventually I'm going to go through and re-upload all previous chapters to make sure that everything is spelled right and things like that. (Before I was typing in Word Pad. It sucked. ;;)

In any event, here is the long-awaited Chapter 4! Enjoy! :D

Chapter 4

The next day arrived shortly and James managed to get Laura off to school without a hitch. Pyramid Head was nowhere to be seen, and James assumed that his new roommate had stayed up late with his "The Price is Right" marathon. He considered leaving a note saying that he was at work, but decided to go with a more direct method of informing Pyramid Head of his whereabouts:

"Pyramid Head!" he shouted down the stairs. "I'm going to work! Don't burn down the house and don't invite any lady friends over while I'm gone!" He may or may not have heard a very loud, drowsy groan in reply.

Regardless, James shrugged on his jacket, palmed his keys, and went to open the door. His hand was on the doorknob when there was a knock. He blinked and opened the door. Later, he would swear that his heart stopped for about four tenths of a second.

Standing at the doorway was a middle-aged man with graying hair. He wore an expensive business suit and carried a shiny leather attaché case in one hand whilst checking a gold pocket watch in the other. He looked up at James as the door opened. "Good morning, James," he said in a very British accent.

James remembered how to speak. Unfortunately, it was the speech memory of how to speak when one's mouth is full of mashed potatoes, so the first time he said something it was completely unintelligible and which probably lowered the guest's IQ by several points. The clerk repeated himself with greater diction shortly afterward. "Uh…g-good morning, Mr. Sexington," he stuttered.

"May I come in?" the guest asked, pocketing his watch and stepping in the doorway before James had a chance to reply. Sexington brushed off his suit coat absently with his free hand. "I assume you got the memo about the change in date for our business brunch?"

"Ah—yes, of course I got the memo!"

James never received the memo. Ursula, the lady in charge of distributing memos, had it out for him. She wanted him dead and ruined. Her motive, James was not sure of, but he was eighty percent certain that it had something to do with a mix-up about the whereabouts of her favorite stapler, or that she was just insane. He liked going with the latter story when discussing the topic.

"Please," encouraged James, "come in, Mr. Sexington. Take off your coat, and sit down."

Sexington did just that. He set his case down next to the door and removed his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack. Slipping off his shoes, he made his way into the living room and sat on the sofa. His back was to James, who was in the kitchen presently. "Would you like some coffee, sir?" the clerk asked.

"Oh, do you have any tea?"

James blinked. _Tea? Srsly?_ "I-I can make some if you want me to, sir."

Sexington shook his head. "Don't trouble yourself; coffee will be fine. With milk, please."

James busied himself with pouring coffee. Sexington picked a stray magazine off of the ottoman and began flipping through it, becoming absorbed in a random article on the proper care of tribbles. James brought the coffee out to his boss on a small tray. He did not see a certain tall figure come up the stairs and take the back way into the kitchen.

Sexington sipped his coffee and smiled. "Ah," he said. "So, how has life been treating you, James?"

James shrugged. "Pretty well, sir. And you?"

"All right. My wife has been missing some nights as of late and I am beginning to worry about our relationship."

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir." He empathized with the older man.

Sexington stared at the floor for a moment. "Yes, thank you," he said absently. He abruptly looked back up at James. "Oh, I'm sorry to bring up relationships at such a time as this. I understand your wife died of an illness. Is that right?"

James shifted in his chair. "Umm…actually, she's living happily in California with the man she left me for and their son, Henry." For some strange reason, many people that James met believed that he killed Mary; particularly that he smothered her with a pillow. He wasn't sure where such a foolish rumor started, but every time the subject came up in a conversation that Pyramid Head was involved with, the aforementioned masked man either left the room or changed the topic.

"I'm terribly sorry to hear that," replied Sexington.

"Well…thank you, sir. It's been difficult but I—_dearest Mary!"_

Pyramid Head was in the kitchen, out of sight of James's boss, standing in front of the open refrigerator in his underwear, drinking milk out of the jug.

Sexington closed his eyes and nodded in solemnity. "Yes, my friend. Just let it all out."

James stood up quickly. "I-I'll be right back," he said, his voice wavering with fear, and he went into the kitchen.

The older man sighed and lowered his head, consoling his employee with his eyes closed. "Yes, Mary was indeed a dear. I shall miss her. I remember the first time I saw you two, you looked so happy. I said to myself, I said, 'Those two are going to lead happy lives together.' And when you were called to volunteer to help sick children in Mongolia together, and I thought that it would be good for both of you but it ended so badly."

During this consolation, James hurried over to the kitchen. He snatched the milk jug away from Pyramid Head and put it back in the still-open fridge. Pyramid Head went to go take it back out, but was interrupted by James pushing his back toward the mud room, where his half-naked roommate would be out of sight of his boss. Pyramid Head, being much stronger than James could ever dream of being, ignores this gesture and proceeded to chop an onion that was out on a cutting board. James hissed at him to stop and leave, but Pyramid Head hissed back about making an omelet. James wrenched the knife away from the masked man and waved it around in anger. Pyramid Head backed away slowly into the mud room, taking the classified section of the newspaper off the counter as he went.

James turned to the cutting board again to clean up the onion mess. Suddenly, his eyes started watering as the onions began protecting themselves from his intruding knife.

"It's foolish of me to impose my marital problems upon you James," Sexington continued, lifting his head and looking at the kitchen, "but—what are you doing with that knife?"

Unfortunately for James, his boss found him as follows: leaning over the counter in onion-induced pain, his eyes puffy and watering, with a very sharp knife in his hand. James looked at him confusedly and made sense of the situation. "Oh, no, sir, this isn't what it looks--!"

"I know you're upset, my boy, but…there's always another way!"

James set the knife down quickly. "It's not what you think sir!" he explained hurriedly. "I was chopping an onion, you see, and—!"

He was interrupted by heavy footsteps and Pyramid Head re-entered the kitchen. The clerk's eyes grew wide. "Pyramid Head! What are you doing?"

Pyramid Head put his hand on his hip. "You know what James?" he shouted in an absurd falsetto. "I'm sick of you and all your dirty lies!" He slapped James across the face. "We're _through!"_

James looked at his roommate with utter confusion, his hand covering his new face wound, his eyes tearing from pain in addition to onion fumes. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" Pyramid Head continued in the same absurd falsetto. "I'm talking about your affair with Chuck down the street! How could you hurt me like that?"

James, completely at a loss for words, turned to his boss and said with the calmest voice he could muster, "Excuse me for a moment, sir." He then dragged Pyramid Head into the mud room with the hand that wasn't nursing his face.

"Who's that?" Pyramid Head asked in a loud whisper, his voice back to normal. "He looks like Mr. Rogers. Is he a pedophile?"

"What in God's name are you doing, Pyramid Head?" interrogated James in the same volume.

"Did you like my performance? I'm going to try out for a play that I saw advertised in the newspaper!" He held up the classifieds proudly. "If I make it, they'll pay me! Then I'll have money to buy beer!"

The two turned to the doorway as the light switched on. Sexington stood in the doorway, his eyebrows raised. "You two are arguing like an old married couple," he said with very little surprise in his voice.

Pyramid Head seized the moment. "That's because we are," he replied, returning to the falsetto. He put his arm around the shorter man's shoulders and attempted to kiss his cheek. This action translated to James being lightly impaled in the eye with the pinnacle of Pyramid Head's helmet.

James fell away from his roommate, holding his eye now. "Will you stop it?" he yelled. He turned to his boss and said in a calmer tone, "It's just a joke, honestly."

Pyramid Head blinked. (I mean, I guess he blinked. In any event, there was a short pause.) "I don't think we've been properly introduced, James."

James sighed. "Oh. Mr. Sexington, this is Pyramid Head. He's my roommate, nothing more. Pyramid Head, this is Mr. Bradwell Sexington. _My boss."_

The masked man exchanged looks with both of the others in the room, then let out a hearty laugh. "Oh-ho-ho! Mr. Sexington. It's very nice to meet you, I've heard _so_ much about you from little Jamie here." He held out his hand to Sexington, and the older man hesitated to take it. "I promise you, I am straight. It was just an act."

James rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah," he mumbled, "he's straight all right." The clerk reflected on every single girlfriend he ever had.

Sexington looked deep in thought for a moment. His face suddenly brightened in recognition of the masked man's name. "Pyramid Head! I _have_ heard rumors of you. You're the one who originally stole James's wife from him, aren't you?"

James had a very hard time fighting the urge to shoot himself in the face with a shotgun at that moment. His _boss_ had heard rumors of his divorce and about his _roommate._ How much worse could this get?

Pyramid Head shook the older man's hand. "Yes, sir, the one and only."

Sexington laughed. "I like you Pyramid Head. Tell me, sir: Are you currently out of work?"

"Why, yes, sir. I am."

"How would you like to work for Sexington and Co.?"

James didn't bother to keep his jaw from dropping open. This was a mistake, however; his face throbbed and his eyes watered even more.

Pyramid Head thought about it for a moment. Or, more like, he _looked_ like he thought about it for a moment. James was absolutely sure that Pyramid Head already had an answer for this question. He also had strong suspicions that Pyramid Head was the source of all evil, and so therefore he knew that this whole exchange would take place and how it would end.

The clerk could almost see his roommate doing a little happy dance in his own mind. The little happy dance was a horrific thing. Other mortals who have tried doing Pyramid Head's little happy dance usually ended up dying horrible, cruel, and unusual deaths within the week. This effect is even greater if they do it half-naked, as Pyramid Head was most likely planning on doing.

"I'd love to sir," Pyramid Head determined.

Sexington was pleased. "Wonderful, wonderful! You can start tomorrow!" He began walking to the door.

James followed closely behind. "Um…sir, what about that brunch?"

"Brunch?" Sexington said. "Oh! Yes! Right, right. Let's give that a rain check, shall we?"

"Yes, sir." James stopped trying not to sound upset and disappointed over the lack of opportunity for a promotion. He handed the older man his coat and opened the door for him.

"Well, it's been nice meeting you, Pyramid Head," Sexington said. "I'll see you both tomorrow at the office."

"Yes, sir," said James and Pyramid Head in unison. James was monotonous and sad. Pyramid Head was happy and vibrant.

Indeed, as soon as James shut the door behind his boss, he turned to find Pyramid Head in the middle of the half-naked permutation of his little happy dance. He could almost feel his eyes bleeding from the inside. He had to stop this madness soon, else the world would come to an end in an apocalypse of sheep.

"What are you so happy about?" James asked sourly.

"I got myself a job!" Pyramid Head sang. "I got myself a job!"

"You realize it's a job as a clerk, right?"

The little happy dance stopped abruptly.

There was silence.

"Damn it!!" shouted Pyramid Head.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The following day, James felt a little better about his job predicament. This was helped by quite a bit of chocolate and making a Pyramid Head-shaped voodoo doll out of a decapitated Barbie he found in Laura's room. It now had somewhere around fifty pins protruding from various orifices in the plastic idol's body.

To continue to keep his mind off of the matter at hand (and in turn, to keep his mood up), James took to cleaning the house. His favorite time to clean was when nobody was home; therefore, he could wear his favorite pink cleaning apron (which he used to keep his clothes from getting cleaning chemicals on them), and use his favorite cleaning tool. The Swiffervac was a good therapeutic item, although James could not tell you why even if you interrogated him with Chinese water torture. It was a lightweight vacuum and a useful dusting tool combined in one awesome utensil. James used it often, even when he wasn't feeling down. On a good day, the Swiffervac made him giddy, and people often asked him if he had taken drugs that day.

On top of the Swiffervac, James had discovered the wonders of the device known as the iPod. For those few of you that have been living under a rock for around a decade and have never heard of an iPod, I apologize for your ignorance, and James completely agrees with me. His iPod became his best friend at times. On it, he could listen to whatever music he wanted, whenever he wanted to. He could listen to music that would get him made fun of in many circles at any time of day. He may or may not have had a small altar to it in his closet.

At the moment, James was Swiffervaccing the hardwood floor in the living room and dancing to the music on his iPod. Oh, and he was singing too, but that wasn't something he wanted people to know.

"I'm the F to the E, R, G, the I, the E / And can't no other lady put it down like me / I'm Fergalicious, so delicious / My body stay vicious--!"

He was interrupted by a loud crash from downstairs. The clerk turned off the Swiffervac and pulled his headphones out of his ears. "Pyramid Head!" he shouted. "Are you okay?" He wasn't sure why he was even asking the masked man if he was okay; Pyramid Head had been hit by at least three cars going full speed down the street in his lifetime, and he had walked away unscathed from each accident. (Coincidentally, he was drunk for each incident.)

However, James was fairly certain that his roommate wouldn't make the high-pitched cries of exertion that was coming from downstairs. These noises he did not recognize.

_Oh, crap! I'm being burgled!_

He glanced around quickly and decided that his Swiffervac was the best item for self-defense in his immediate vicinity. He picked it up, readied it like he would a baseball bat, and began to step lightly down the stairs. There were a few more small crashes before he got to the family room to see what was making the ruckus. When James arrived, he put down the appliance and breathed a sigh of relief. Halfway stuck in the window was a pair of skinny legs clothed in red pants, and a torso in a light beige camel hair sweater. On the floor was an overturned box of Laura's toys.

"Angela!" he cried. He ran up to the window and tried to help her down.

Angela, however, did not take kindly to a strange pair of hands on her waist. She kicked at James, knocking the wind out of his chest. "Go away!" she yelled. "I can do it myself!"

The clerk backed away from the window gasping. Indeed, the teenager managed to wiggle herself through the window and land on the floor lightly. In her hand was a small measuring cup.

Angela was a very close friend of James's. He took a series of classes at the nearby community college to earn accreditation in some sort of computer field that he ended up never using. However, Angela sat next to him and class and they became friends.

She was straightening her sweater when she caught sight of James. She gasped and smiled at him, as if she hadn't realized that he was there before.

"Oh! Hello, James!" she said sweetly. He blinked at her. She remembered the measuring cup in her hand. "I was wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar. I-I'm making some, uh, baklava, you see, and I ran out."

James blinked. He was wondering why she didn't just use the door. Not really wanting to discuss the matter, he just said, "Um…okay."

They turned to go up the stairs when heavy footsteps approached from the stairs leading to the basement. Angela held back for a moment, wide eyed and a little frightened. James turned to the sound. Out of the basement appeared Pyramid Head, mercifully fully clothed this time. The masked man saw them and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. Even though his face was covered, James knew he was grinning.

Pyramid Head cleared his throat. "Hello, Angela," he said in a very fake British accent.

Angela relaxed once she realized who it was. She had met Pyramid Head a couple of times before, when he had come over to visit James for Christmas a few years ago. "Oh, hello, Pyramid Head. How are you?"

"I'm smashing, darling, and yourself?" he inquired, continuing with the accent.

"I-I'm doing well, thank you. That's an interesting accent. Where did you get it?"

Pyramid Head chuckled. "I actually picked it up on my recent travels to Alaska, Indonesia, and Morocco. I spent a year trekking across that continuous stretch of land." He gestured.

Pyramid Head had never been to any of those places, James could vouch for that. Well, except for Alaska. During the summer between sophomore and junior year of college, Pyramid Head convinced him to go on a road trip with him. The masked man forgot to mention that, even though he had appointed himself navigator for the trip (primarily because he lacked the proper amount of peripheral vision to operate a motor vehicle), he could not read a map. Therefore, while they were trying very hard to make it to Daytona Beach, they ended up in Nome. James did have second thoughts when he saw snow-capped mountains when they were crossing the Yukon, and especially when they were asked for their passports when they had entered Canada, but Pyramid Head figured that they were just looking for illegal immigrants that had made a community in a system of caves in the Appalachian Mountains.

Angela was better at geography than James was. "Oh, how did you manage that?" she asked sweetly. "They're nowhere near each other."

Pyramid Head scoffed. "What are you talking about, my dear? They're all right next to each other." He paused for a moment. "Ah…it appears you have been duped by The Man."

The girl digested that for a moment. "Oh. Okay."

James was just watching this exchange unsurely. He took this moment to direct the girl's attention back to himself. "So…what about that cup of sugar?"

Angela again noticed the measuring cup in her hand, as if she hadn't realized it was there before. "Oh, right!" She smiled at the masked man. "It was nice seeing you, Pyramid Head."

"The pleasure was all mine, Angela." He approached her and kissed her hand. "Let's have lunch sometime."

The girl smiled, her face turning a faint pink. "I'd like that."

Pyramid Head grinned (I guess). "Until then, my darling—adieu!" And with that, the masked man retreated fancifully into the basement.

James was really at a loss for words regarding his roommate. Again. These moments of impairment in regard to describing Pyramid Head were becoming more and more frequent as the days passed. He feared that someday Pyramid Head would only be able to be described with only one word: "Pyralicious." Fergie would not be pleased.

"Um…the sugar's upstairs," he managed to repeat.

Angela turned to him and smiled again. "Oh, right."

They headed up to the kitchen, where James filled the measuring cup from the sugar jar.

"Thanks, James," said Angela, taking the measuring cup back.

"No problem."

They stood there for a moment in awkward silence.

"Well," said Angela, breaking the silence. "I'd better get back to my baklava. I'll see you later!" She smiled as she walked out the back door.

James watched her leave and begun thinking about all of the times they'd had together. The first time they met in class. The day that they spent at the mall, trying on stupid clothing and laughing. Those were good times--!

"So, you like Angela, huh?"

The clerk nearly had a heart attack. Pyramid Head was leaning against the counter next to him, looking out the back door, as well. He was speaking in his normal voice again.

"What? No! No. She's just…just a friend."

Pyramid Head nudged his roommate in the side. "Come on, James. You know there's _something_ there."

James stammered and sighed. "I can't. She's one of my best friends."

Pyramid Head scoffed. "Pshh! Who cares?"

James wasn't really listening. "And she's not exactly sane."

"You two would be a perfect match for each other!"

"I guess so…" James comprehended the context of Pyramid Head's statement. "What?"

Pyramid Head folded his hands and placed the beak of his helmet on top of them daintily. "Nothing," he said innocently.

James buried his face in his hands. "I wish I had Mary back…"

They both stood at the counter in silence for a moment. Pyramid Head stood up and began to walk away. "Well, at least that apron of yours made a wonderful impression on dearest Angela," he said before jogging back downstairs.

James looked in puzzlement, and then remembered his apron. It was pink and slightly frilly. He buried his face further in his hands, if that was even possible.


End file.
